


Calling You Home

by msraven



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Spoilers, Captain America: The Winter Soldier Spoilers, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-03
Updated: 2014-06-03
Packaged: 2018-02-03 07:17:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1735904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msraven/pseuds/msraven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nobody else—not Natasha, or Hill, or Sitwell—ever mentioned Clint and Phil followed suit, knowing that there must be some explanation and now he had it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Calling You Home

**Author's Note:**

> X-posted as one of my [tumblr minifics](http://msraven929.tumblr.com/tagged/minific) and inspired by [this post](http://staingirl.tumblr.com/post/86936826500/i-definitely-like-true-stories-but-there-are).

"AC? Sorry. Do you have a minute? I think I found something."

Phil rubs at the bridge of nose tiredly and musters up a smile. “What is it Skye?”

"It’s a transmission—director’s eyes only. It’s a few weeks old. Got lost during the craziness, but I thought it may be important."

Phil accepts the data chip with a nod. “Thanks.”

"You should try and get some sleep."

"Soon. I promise."

Phil smiles again and Skye leaves, looking concerned enough that Phil knows she’ll be back soon to check on him. He absently inserts the chip into his console and freezes when the image comes up.

It’s Clint.

The video is black and white, Clint’s face filling the screen. Phil can’t help reaching out and running the tips of his fingers along Clint’s familiar features. He almost can’t believe what he’s seeing. Clint is still alive, on assignment, and had apparently been communicating only with Fury.

Phil had tried to find Clint after he’d gotten back, after Tahiti, but Fury had blocked him at every turn. Fury had only told Phil that Clint was alive, back on the right side, and out of reach. He’d warned Phil that any attempts to find Clint would put him grave danger, so Phil had listened. Nobody else—not Natasha, or Hill, or Sitwell—ever mentioned Clint and Phil followed suit, knowing that there must be some explanation for his absence and now he had it.

He hits play.

"Agent Clint Barton. Level Seven. Charlie-Bravo-Foxtrot-3-6-9-9-1-5. I hope you got my last message and that there was something on that ship worth getting. I’m also hoping you’re keeping your cards close to your vest, ‘cuz I have a hard time believing that Sitwell’s…" 

Clint shakes his head and scoffs, suddenly looking tired and unbearably sad. 

"I bet you didn’t think I’d find this shit when you sent me off to pay penance for Coulson. If all this is true, it’s probably better he isn’t around to see it."

Another shake of the head and a sigh.

"Anyway… this Strucker’s a piece of work. Paranoid as shit, but I think I’m in. He’s got something big going on, bigger than the crap you’re dealing with. I’m headed out with him soon. I heard him mutter something about the twins—project Gemini. If I find anything, I’ll try and get it to you, but it won’t be easy. If you don’t hear from me… well we both knew there was a good chance I wasn’t coming back from this one. Thanks for everything and take care of Nat for me. Barton out."

The video stops and Phil stares at the black screen for a few minutes. Clint didn’t know he was alive. Not only that, but he was on an assignment that he expected to kill him. Phil knows logically why Fury would keep the truth from Clint, but it doesn’t make him any less angry. How dare Fury take advantage of Clint’s guilt over Phil’s death to push him into an assignment he wouldn’t normally take, an assignment Phil would never have let him go on had he been involved. Is this what being the Director of SHIELD meant? That Phil would have to sacrifice everything to do right by the world? No. Not anymore and not this time.

Phil picks up the phone and calls Skye.

"Was there anything else aside from the message?"

"Uh, yeah. A phone number. I traced it and it’s a voicemail box. Old school—voice only, no data. Why?"

"I need you to patch me through to that number so that it can’t be traced back to us."

"I can do that," Skye replies hesitantly, "but I won’t be able to encrypt your message. Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Yes. What I say won’t need to be encrypted."

Phil knows that Skye is on the verge of asking why, but she surprises him by reading the urgency in his voice and acquiescing. “Okay. I’ll patch you through now. AC… good luck. Whatever this is.”

There are a few clicks and then Clint’s voice giving simple instructions to leave a message.

"Hey, it’s me. Surprise! I know, I know. I’m a horrible friend. I don’t call enough to let you know I’m alive. So here—I’m calling. Things have been pretty crazy. I thought Nicky gave you my new number after I got back from Tahiti, but I guess not. Sorry about that. I wanted to call in case you heard about the accident. We’re all okay. Nicky had to spend some time in the hospital, but is fine now—roaming the world and all that. I’m good too. New job and hey, I got promoted! The perfect job I never wanted, right? Anyway, your turn. Give me a call or, better yet, come home. I…" Phil pauses and drops the act, letting his true feelings bleed into his voice. "I miss you and I want to see you again. Come home. I’ll see you soon. Bye."

Phil hangs up the phone and takes a deep breath. He’s done all he can. Now all there is to do is wait and hope he’s not too late.

Months pass and Phil waits, Clint a constant thought in the back of his head despite all the work it’s taking to recover what’s left of SHIELD. He returns to his quarters one night and his hand pauses over the doorknob. There have been no perimeter alarms or any messages informing Phil of a new arrival, but he knows there is someone waiting for him on the other side of the door. He takes a deep breath and turns the knob.

Sitting on Phil’s bed is Clint, looking gaunt and tired. There’s a fresh cut along his cheek, his hair is longer than he usually wears it, and he’s sporting a goatee despite his usual aversion to facial hair. Clint stands and Phil shuts the door.

Phil takes a step and Clint matches him, and then another, until they have their arms around each other as tight as they’ll go. They both know it won’t be this easy. They still have many more months—maybe years—ahead filled with recriminations, accusations, and arguments. None of that matters in this moment. All that matters is that they’re both safe and alive and back together. 

"Hey Phil," Clint whispers against Phil’s shoulder and Phil replies just as softly against the skin of Clint’s neck.

"Welcome home, Clint."

_fin_

**Author's Note:**

> Now with a mini coda [here](http://msraven929.tumblr.com/post/88016553500/minific-coda-finding-home) (written for Luniana).


End file.
